The Home

Looking around the room, it seemed like everyone was done eating and beginning to get antsy. Better get back to our session, Abby thought.

"Everyone! Hello? Hello!" She stepped to the center of the room. "Now that everyone's fed and hopefully a little rested, should we move back into the library? Yes?" Abby nodded, hands fluttering in what she hoped conveyed a 'gathering' motion. "If everyone can finish up in here, session will reconvene in five minutes. You lot can head on in as soon as you're ready. I'll go rise up the stragglers."



Alexander glanced up and grinned, hooking his arm through Marina's. "Come, tesoro, let's sit together." He flashed a smile at the vampire, Rogue, and led the girl into the room Abby gestured toward. His sharp eyes shot her a glance, then his eyes trailed over to the one that vaguely smelled like dog. He was asleep on the couch in the room Abby had gestured toward.

Normally Alex liked dogs. Especially the small annoying ones that shivered and barked at leaves rustling. Their cute wet noses and little paws drove him mad, and he enjoyed doing quick spells that allowed them to talk. But werewolves, they were another story. They did not normally have wet noses (barring the ones with the occasional cold), they did not have little paws (not even on full moons), they did not bark at leaves, and when they shivered something bad usually happened.

So, he decided, he would simply avoid the stupid werewolf regardless of whether he was stupid or not. Because werewolves were stupid.

Rogue just followed behind Marina's footsteps, ignoring the thing by her side. Alexander had something on him, something the vampiress didn't like, something other than his elfhood. He seemed strange to her eyes and it had piqued her interest, though not as much as Marina had.



Abby did a quick sweep of the house, looking for the few members who had exited the kitchen area shortly after the group session's recess. With the common areas clear, she climbed the stairs and began looking in on the residents who now roomed upstairs.

First reaching Shep's room, Abby knocked swiftly. Receiving no answer, she pressed her ear against the door, listening for any sounds or movement. Hearing none, she tried opening the door, only to find it unsurprisingly locked.

"Mr. Shepherd?" she called. "Lunch break's over. If you could return to the library, we'll be glad to have you." Waiting just a few second longer, and getting no response, Abby took the stairs down to the second floor and walked towards Maxwell's room.

Much like Shepherd's room, Maxwell's door was closed, locked, and the room was silent. "Mr. Alchemy," Abby yelled, hoping she could be heard, "if you would join us in the library." Again, she was met with silence.

Assuming the two were either sleeping or flat-out ignoring her, Abby sighed - both annoyed and a little dejected – and walked back towards the stairwell. She could give those two some time, if that's what they needed. There was always tomorrow.

At the end of the hall – just before the stair – was Rocio's room. With the biggest windows, as requested by Rocio herself, Abby could see the sunlight shining out from under the door. "Rocio?" Abby called, knocking quietly. When no answer came, she turned the doorknob. Surprised to find it unlocked, she gently pushed the door open and peaked inside. With the sunlight beating against the white walls - again, another thing Rocio insisted on - the room was almost blinding. Rocio's room was pristine, neat, well put-together - and empty. This, Abby was prepared for. When taking the job, Rocio had reminded her that she might disappear from time to time. She was a reaper, first and foremost, a responsibility she couldn't just abandon. Still, it was a little disheartening to find her gone.

With a deep breath, Abby pulled Rocio's door shut and made her way toward the basement, where Brodim resided. Descending the side stairwell - the only one that took you to the cellar - she could feel the temperature drop with each step she took. The dwarf wanted to be some place where he could "smell the nearness of the earth" and she figured the cellar was the closest thing she could find that still kept him within the house with easy access to the rest of the residents. In her opinion, it was too cold, too damp and too dark, but Brodim had assured her it would do just fine.

As suspected, the wooden door to his room wouldn't budge when Abby tried to pull it open. Brodim must have slipped the bolt into place from the inside. She knocked fruitlessly and, with more force than necessary, stomped back up the stairs.